"Is not rise, rose, risen, proper?"
"Certainly."
"Then why not squize, squoze, squizzen?"
Then they all sang again.
One incident that I yet remember was that all had on light-colored vests, and while crossing Broadway, dodging here and there among the omnibusses, trucks, and other vehicles, such as we had never seen before, I slipped on the wet stone pavement and fell flat on my stomach, but it soon dried off and I was at the front again, and at the appointed time we appeared at the book store and gave the man his dollar, who again cautioned us not to let the police see it.
It was papered up nicely and I can now see how nervously Newell jammed it into his inside pocket, which was not quite large enough, and then we boarded the steamer, all the while looking out of the corners of our eyes that no one suspicioned us.
After the steamer had cleared the dock and Lute Aborn said we were on the high seas, we slipped around behind the wheel pit, for it was a side-wheeled steamer, and as Newell was nervously untying the string, he said: "Now we will all look at the pictures first and then you, Lute, who is the best reader, will read it aloud"—when, behold, it was nothing but a New Testament worth ten cents.
This little Fanny Hill experience was really a blessing in disguise to us boys, but we did not think so at the time, and if we could have gotten hold of that dealer we would have taught him that there was yet a God in Israel.